#jonsa dystopian au

[chispas-and-broken-bindings]

I really wanted to get the next chapter of Nothing Sacred, All Things Wild up this week, but work was crazy and I also got caught up in another story (I can’t control my muse)...so instead I’m offering up a long snippet of the dystopian/space colonist fic I started off a prompt I got a while ago for an “Arranged Marriage + a/b/o” request I got from an anon.

A/B/O is not my cup of tea, so I twisted it into an arranged marriage by an artificial intelligence instead: 

He wakes up angry, sweat soaking through his pillow, heart racing, stomach cramped. The alarm is buzzing from somewhere beneath the bed, where he must have knocked it. 

“Turn it off,” Ygritte mutters into his shoulder, before rolling away with the rest of their thin blanket.

He complies, letting the shock of the cold floor against his feet spur him into full wakefulness. “I take the test today.” It’s raining. He watches the drops splatter against the small window near the ceiling, and he wonders if Ygritte remembered to check the bucket beneath the leak before she crawled into bed the night before. 

Their garden apartment doesn’t do well in the rain. Jon still doesn’t understand why it’s even called a garden...there’s nothing green about their cramped basement residence, besides the mold growing beneath the sink.  

“Oh yeah. Happy birthday...we’ll get drinks when you come home.” 

“If I come home.”  He could be part of the one percent, after all. That is the Institution's promise. Everyone is SOMEONE. Anyone can be part of the 1%. Are YOU?

Jon knows it’s unlikely. How could he, an orphan from Mole’s Town, have the magic combination of pheno-, geno-, and personality type to be chosen for the Colony? No...he’s just another loser of the 99% who will waste his twenty-first birthday behind the Brutalist concrete walls of the Institution’s testing center, playing lab rat for the day, until the examiners come to the inevitable conclusion that he’s just another nobody. 

They’ll spit him back out on the street, leaving him free to carve out a pathetic existence on a slowly dying planet. 

He doesn’t bother washing. It’d be a waste of precious water when he knows full well they’ll scrub him down at the testing center. Instead he spends his last moments at home drinking a pot of weak coffee, trying to remember anything he was taught in the schools he barely attended. His energy would be better spent bracing for the coming indignity of having every part of his body and mind exposed and dissected. 

“Is the area of a circle, two pi times the radius? Or is that the circumference?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Ygritte lights a cigarette at the stove before joining him at the table. “It’s not that kind of test.”

He knows that. It’s another Institution promise. The Test doesn’t ask WHAT you know. It asks who YOU are. Are YOU the 1%

How the fuck would Jon know? It’s easier for him to remember that the area of a circle is actually pi times the radius squared, than it is for him to explain who he is. He has no idea. That’s kind of what being an orphan is all about. 

Ygritte could at least throw him a bone and tell him what the test is like. She took it two years ago, though she won’t talk. Most people won’t. There are no rules against it, but The Test is treated like dysentery. Unless you live behind the gates, you’re going to get it at least once in your life, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna go around describing your diarrhea to the world.  

Grenn went to White Harbor for the test a month ago, and though Jon had to buy him six beers and two shots of whiskey before Grenn would shut up about his first-ever train ride, he did give Jon a few insights into the rest of the experience. 

Not that the train isn’t worth the excitement, especially when the ride is paid for (another Institution promise. No matter your means. No matter the distance. EVERYONE makes it to the Test. Are YOU the 1%?) Technically, Jon has taken it once before, from Winterfell to Mole’s Town as a baby, but he doesn’t remember.  

Now he can’t believe anything that moves so fast could feel so smooth. He’s topped out at ninety miles per hour on the best snowmobile Donal Noye patched together, but that left his teeth rattling and his ears buzzing for hours afterward. The train is moving at double the speed, but he could be in the godswood, for how quiet the near-empty economy cabin is. He shares it with a twitchy young man who never looks up from a cheap tablet, and a black raven perched in a large cage who spends the entire ride staring at Jon with one eerie black eye. 

The testing center is located just across from the train station, in an intimidating building that used to have a name. Jon has a vague memory that it was a prison before the Institution took it over. Before that it was something else. 

He doesn’t balk when a masked orderly leads him to a small room, tells him to strip, and then takes off with his clothes. He knows they’ll be returned at the end of the day. Of more pressing concern is the man and woman who enter talking too quietly to make out at the other end of the room, while a nurse rolls in with a small cart covered in collection tubes, gauze strips, and butterfly needles. 

Everyone wears surgical masks, latex gloves, long white coats, and black clogs. 

Jon remains naked beneath a small paper covering. 

He has given blood before, and the messy, life-saving transfusion Mance performed to save Tormund three years ago was far scarier than the rapid, methodical draw that's taken from him now. Still, it’s disconcerting to think of the secrets the Institution will glean from his blood. He’s uncomfortably aware that they’ll know who his parents are before the day is over, even as he’ll continue living in total ignorance. 

Another Institution promise. The Institution values EVERYONE’S right to privacy. YOU control the right to tell the world who you are. Are YOU the 1%?

Before he’s finished the recitation in his head, five tubes are full, and the nurse pats a cotton ball and a band-aid over his arm. She tosses a granola bar on his lap before rolling out of the room with her cart of samples. 

Next comes a physical exam, where the other two examiners speak only to each other as they record his height, weight, blood pressure, and note his every blemish and scar in flat affect. 

“Post-burn contractures across the palmar and dorsal aspect of the left hand, adduction and extension in the metacarpophalangeal joint of thumb fall outside normal range of movement.”

“Keloid scarring along the right gastrocnemius muscle, five point three centimeters in diameter.”

“Slightly hypertrophic scarring beginning at left brow and running medially down across the left orbital cavity to the cheek. No ptosis noted. No apparent damage to the eye.”

He should feel worse beneath the weight of each fault. Instead he relaxes. He was nervous for nothing. Failure was always inevitable. The Institution would never invest in a malnourished kid with a burned hand and a badly healed leg wound. They are famously secretive about their selection process, but some reasons for failure are common knowledge. As the crows like to say, no cripples, bastards, or broken things. 

So, he chews his granola bar slowly and even closes his eyes for a bit, letting the examiners move his limp limbs as necessary for their measurements. He imagines himself a cadaver during the early stages of an autopsy. 

As long as they don’t cut me open….

When an white-haired man enters and lays out what look to be a series of tiny torture devices, Jon wonders if he stopped caring too soon. He white-knuckles it through an excruciating dental exam that ends with his first real exchange of the day. 

“Have you ever been to a dentist, kid?” 

There is still a tube in his mouth, sucking up his spit and a hook pressing at his gums, so Jon just shakes his head. There are no dentists in Mole’s Town. Just Chett, who used to work at a slaughterhouse down south and will pull a rotten tooth for the price of a bottle of whiskey. Jon wouldn’t give the creep the lint in his pocket, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let him near his mouth. Instead he brushes his teeth so hard his toothbrush regularly snaps in half, and prays something else kills him before gum disease has a chance.

“You’ve got better teeth than I see behind the gates, boy,” he pulls the hook from Jon’s mouth to dictate into a small microphone hanging from his mobile workstation. “Review DEFB1 on ID 17630343BA. At some point the focus will need to expand beyond the holy 22 and get back to the basics. Who is going to care about neuron growth if every fourth planter is born with anodontia?” 

Jon understands little of what the man is saying, but he’s heard enough to know he’s at least got as good of teeth or better than some of the rich tossers who live within the heavily guarded gated communities where the Colonists are actually culled from. Behind their high walls, wealthy sons and daughters of the only one percent that really matters, spend their youths preparing for the Test in homes and classrooms pumped with filtered air, where the water runs clear, and no one ever goes to sleep with their bellies cramped from hunger or disease. 

The Institution promises that ANYONE can be the 1%, but EVERYONE knows that's a lie. 

---

The physical exam ends at last, after several more rounds of sterile humiliation. Jon isn’t sure which was worse; having to lie within a noisy cylinder while a disembodied voice reminded him not to move, or being asked to run naked on a treadmill, wired with electrodes. 

When it’s over, the last examiner provides him with a sweatsuit that is softer and better-made than anything he owns, and he wonders if there is any way he can smuggle it out with him at the end of the day. Another orderly comes in with a waxy crisp apple that hardly seems real even as a spray of tartly sweet juice hits the back of his tongue. He’s given a pill as well that he swallows down with a cup of water so clear and so cold, it’s an act of incredible will-power not to ask for more. 

It’s only after, when he’s led to a small room with two chairs, a table, and a pulsing white orb in it’s center that he thinks to ask what it’s for. 

“This will make the answers come more naturally during your interviews,” the man explains before leaving him alone. “We want you to answer as truthfully as possibly, but we understand that can be difficult under the stress of the Test.”

He supposes people lie all the time on the Test, trying to game the system, though Jon doesn’t have the first idea how he’d go about doing that, nor does he have any reason to try. He’s not going to the Colony. This is all just a spectacular waste of time, and it’s a race day, which means he’ll have to pull extra shifts at the Rookery to make up for what he would have made beyond the Wall. 

By the time a petite woman with a neat low bun, and cracking, grey scar across half her face and neck enters, Jon is reckless with anger. 

“I’d like to go home.”

“Hello, Jon,” she smiles as she sits across from him, and she’s the first person he’s seen since he entered the building who isn’t wearing a mask. She’s also the first person to call him by his name. “My name is Shireen.”

“Where’s your mask?”

Her smile dims slightly, but she maintains her gentle tone. “I’m here to facilitate the interview portion of your Test today. Before we begin, is there anything you need to feel more comfortable? Something to eat, drink, a bathroom break? Should the temperature be adjusted?”

He’s sour with anger so he takes everything she offers, suddenly eager to make everything as inconvenient as possible for the Institution. Shireen takes his requests with an easy smile, however, escorting him to the restroom herself. When they return to the room, there is a bowl of hearty soup with a chunk of bread that is soft and airy beneath it’s golden-brown crust. Beside it is a tall glass of water and a smaller cup of green liquid that Jon eyes suspiciously. 

“What’s this then?”

“I thought you might like some juice. It’s mostly apple, with some kale, cucumber and celery in it as well, I suspect.”

It’s the best thing Jon has ever tasted, and while part of him wants to fling the rest of it at her frustratingly serene face, it’d be a horrible waste, and he’d be the biggest loser. So, he takes his time, savoring each bite and sip, rolling the bright flavors across his delighted tongue. 

“Feeling better?” she asks after the tray is cleared. 

“Is that an official Test question?”

“No.”

“Let’s get on with it then. I can’t afford to miss the train home.”

“As you may know, it is not individuals who decide the 1%. Our artificial intelligence algorithm, The Seven, determines who is the best fit for the Colony. That is how the institution guarantees objectivity in its selection process,” she taps the pulsing orb on the table. “Though we find people are more comfortable responding to another person, so I will be facilitating our discussion as The Seven records and analyzes your responses. Are you ready to begin?”

He shrugs. 

“I’ll start with a series of statements. After each, please say a number to indicate the degree to which you agree with that statement, wherein one equals strongly disagree and five equals strongly agree. Three indicates you neither agree nor disagree. Do you understand?”

“Five.”

“Okay. Statement Number one: At social events, you rarely try to introduce yourself to new people and mostly talk to the ones you already know.”

Jon knows everyone in Mole’s Town, and he doesn’t want to socialize with most of them. 

“Two.”

This goes on for a while, each statement absurdly divorced from anything relating to Jon’s life, but the numbers spring easily from his lips as he relaxes under Shireen’s soothing voice, and kind face, and the lovely feeling of a full belly and soft, warm clothes. 

It’s when the format shifts, that he begins to feel strange. Shireen starts with questions that are easy to answer. Where were you born? How many years of education have you completed? What was your favorite class and why?  What do you do for work? Describe your strengths. When are you most satisfied in your job?  Do you live alone or with others? How many others do you live with? What is your relationship to the person you live with? 

At this point, the questions grow more invasive; more personal. A voice tells Jon that the Institution doesn’t need to know how many times he and Ygritte fuck a week...but the answer escapes all the same. 

“Four or five times a week.”

“Do you use contraception methods?”

“No.”

“Do you intend to have children with your partner?”

“No.”

“Given your age and your partner’s, without contraception, given your regular intercourse the odds of conception are--”

“She’s sterile.” 

“How do you know that?”

“Most everyone in Mole’s Town is. It’s something in the water, or the air, or our weak genes. It doesn’t really matter the cause. If it’s not the one; it’s the other. She’s been fucking since she was fifteen, and nothing’s ever caught.”

“How do you know that you aren’t the sterile one?”

He shrugs. “I probably am too, but I’m not her first partner as you say. I’m not her second or third either.”

“How does that make you feel?” 

He glares, and Shireen clarifies. 

“Your partner’s sterility?”

“How do you think it makes me feel?” he pushes back from the table, letting his chair lean back on two legs. 

Shireen only gives him a minute shake of her head, and waits for him to answer the question. 

“Angry. I feel fucking furious about it.”

“So, you would like to be a father?”

“I’d like the freedom to choose. I’d like Ygritte to have that freedom.”

“What is your least favorite thing about humanity?”

She can’t be serious with that question. It’s like asking him to name all the stars. He takes a deep breath. Shireen waits. He stands up and paces. Shireen waits. He finishes his water and asks for another. Shireen calls for a refill. He drinks that too. Shireen waits. 

“My least favorite thing? That we’ve given up. We let this machine,” he points at the orb, “decide who doesn’t have to. It’s like….it’s like the men in Mole’s Town who wander into the snows when winter grows too cold, and there’s not enough food or warmth to go around. Grown-ass men who could be fixing furnaces and braving the cold to find the resources their families so desperately need. Most of the time they don’t even have the fucking guts to tell anyone  what they’re off to do. They just wander away one day, and winter takes them. 

That’s what the fucking Institution is. We’re all those men in Mole’s Town who’ve just given up, despite the blood still pumping through our veins. We’re sitting around, waiting for winter to kill us, so that a few can live. And there’s no one left to be mad about it either, because it’s a fucking machine that decides our fate. It’s like being mad at the wind. What’s the fucking point? But just because there is no one to be angry with, that doesn’t mean the rage goes away...and winter isn’t killing us fast enough."

“So you want to live?”

“I want humanity to want to live. I want humanity to want most of humanity to live. I want us to care about more than the one percent.”

It feels radical, saying it here; behind the walls of the Institution. It feels like he’s put the last nail in his own coffin. Shireen watches him as he cracks his knuckles, one at a time, waiting for her to say the interview is over; it’s time to go home. 

Instead she asks an even crazier question. 

“Do you think there is an essential connection between the morality of an action and the morality of the intentions behind it?”

#my writing #work in progress #jonsa fic #jonsa dystopian au #kind of inspired by songs of a distant earth #when I get to the new planet #whenever that happens #shireen!

[amymel86]

How many fics exactly are you working on?

I’m not asking to put you on the spot or be nosy, I just want to know how much better my 2021 will be looking forward to your great writing

Lol, anon - when I first started reading your ask I thought you were someome come to rag on me for starting so many wips - I’m glad that you’re not because as much as it pisses ppl off that I never finish anything, I enjoy starting new ideas so fuck ‘em lmao

And thank you! I needed that little boost tbh so I appreciate it!

Ok, so...

I’m gonna finish my sperm donor fic Redamancy (which - to me - sounds INSANE... it’s a 100k+ fic and *I’m* gonna actually *finish* it?? MEEE??) but yeah - there’s only the epilogue to go so I’m kinda determined.

The last couple of days I’ve been concentrating on drabbles for the upcoming event. I hadn’t planned on doing it but so far all my drabbles link up as a larger fic so I’ll post them as a series. It’s a canon divergent au where Catelyn lives, Jon’s kinda snappy and Sansa can see the future in her dreams.

My confused dystopian soldier Jon series, The Outside is definitely one that I’d like to continue.

Among the many, many (MANY) unfinished fics I have already posted on AO3, the turn-of-the-century circus fic that I’m joint writing with @vivilove-jonsa, A Tightrope Between the Stars is the one that I’d like to focus on. We’ve got a few chapters already written and not yet posted but I think we’ll finish it before we resume posting. Besides, if we don’t finish it, Vivi may kill me for ruining her track record lmao!

So among these (and a few other already posted wips that still pique my interest), I’m also working on a personal challenge - to do an A-Z of one shots. I already have a few of them written and I don’t want to begin to post until I have them all. So far, these include a priest!jon au, a victorian au, a modern au costume party, a good old canon divergent where our otp keep telling themselves that the naughty things they get up to aren’t *that* bad, the modern a/b/o, a dark wolfie Jon au, the sugar daddy au, the fertility matching weird slightly dystopian au, a prison au, a panic attack au, a hands kink au and an amnesia au (plus a few more that are no more that a couple of words worth of notes in my phone at the moment) The big issue is - I keep getting sucked into the story and get the feeling that a good handful of these will be multichaps :/

Lord knows if I will be able to actually do this stupid challenge I’ve set myself??? But as much as I am keen to share, I’m not putting a deadline on it either. Who knows, one day I might just dump 26 fics on AO3 all at once?? lmao

Anyway - thanks for the ask and giving me the opportunity to gab about my upcoming writing, anon!

#jonsa #jon x sansa #asks

[kingsansa]

no hate to op but you should make a jonsa au to this😩😩😩

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMdqYeYx7/

thg is as dystopian as I’m willing to get I’m afraid 😭

#i dont have the range!

[thelegendofclarke]

Jon/Sansa Aesthetics ❖ Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Au’s

Post Apocalyptic/Dystopian Au Fic Recs:  I’d Been Gone A Thousand Miles by @thefairfleming ● Z by @myriddin ● The Facility by @lathwell55 ● United States of Irreversible Oblivion by @justadram● In the Face of Death by @rumaan ● In Your Favour by @sardoniyx ● Sacrilege by tweed_princess ● Feed by toomuchchampagne ● Love to Love Her by @youcancalllmequeenjane ● At the Gates of Your Fortress by @subjunctivemood ● When Will We Finally Breathe? by @historicbellamyblake ● Walking Dead Au by @alienor-woods ● keep the hatch closed by @jonnsansa ● The 100 Au by @alienor-woods ● The 100 Au by @historicbellamyblake ● Game of Thrones Diverges by @lydiamartenism ● Hunger Games Au by @historicbellamyblake ● Zombie Au by @sansapotter

#jon x sansa #asoiaf au #got au #gotfic #jonsa #jon snow #sansa stark #asoiaf edit #got edit #post apocalyptic au #dystopian au #zombie au #twd au #the 100 au #alys fic recs #alys edits #ae: jon x sansa #ae: asoiaf #ae: hbo got #ae: jon x sansa aesthetics #divergent au

[vivilove-jonsa]

I'd love for you to answer the below questions and tag some other authors! (All questions are related to Jonsa fics) Which of your fics are you proud of most? Which of your fics do you think could be expanded on if you had the time? What fics are you reading at the moment? Do you have fics that you go back to reread? How many fic ideas have you got 'on the back burner'? Can you share any? What will you NEVER include in a fic? Is there a phrase that you find yourself repeating in ur fics?

Hey Nonny! 

Wow!  That’s a lot of questions but thanks for asking :)  I’m going to try to answer them all though. 

1. Which of my fics am I most proud?  I’ve got 80+ fics but I’ll narrow it down to five that I’m really pleased with and I’m only going to include finished fics.

Home is with You (one of my earliest and my longest fic, a teen romance with lots of characters involved)

Ivory & Steel (my Western Jonsa fic.  I was especially pleased with the gunfight since I agonized over writing that!)

Let Me Build a Bridge (for I Cannot Fill the Chasm) (Post Season 6 tinfoil-one shot where Jon and Sansa become sexually involved before he leaves for Dragonstone)

The Handyman (short fic in my Career Day Romance series that has a nice balance of humor, romance and angst)

The Music Man (which I just finished!  It’s modern AU of Jon trying to repair his fractured relationship with his dying father and meets and falls in love with the young lady working for his dad.)

2. Ones I would expand on if I had time-

Probably I’d revisit ‘Home is with You’ to catch up with Jon and Sansa as a young, married couple.  I could probably expand on some of my one-shots, especially the canon-setting ones, but not sure which!

3. Fics I’m reading right now-

There are so many great fics out there.  We’ve had a flood of fics since before Season 7 started and its not slowed down at all which is a blessing…and a curse because I can’t possibly read them all!

But, some that are in progress that I’m really enjoying right now are

No Strings on Me by Northbound http://archiveofourown.org/works/11875902/chapters/26816421

But She’s a Forest Fire by Shippershape http://archiveofourown.org/works/11486946/chapters/25764558

Your Secret is Safe with Me by @jeanettesonya http://archiveofourown.org/works/11277657/chapters/25223613

New Year, New Beginnings by @tigereye771 http://archiveofourown.org/works/10809726/chapters/23981844

And two by @kittykatknits 

Go West, Jon Snow (one chapter and I’m already hooked!)http://archiveofourown.org/works/11964435/chapters/27054861

Hammerfall (she probably wishes I’d shut up about it but I LOVE this one)http://archiveofourown.org/works/10793091/chapters/23939973

4. Stuff I reread-

I reread lots of folks stuff but I probably reread the most by @what-would-ww-do (Janina on ao3), @ava-rosier, @angelwings1980, and @amymel86! 

5. Fics I’ve got on the back burner…

Yeah, I’ve got about five fics that some progress has been made on that are just lingering for now.  Two or three of them might see the light of day eventually. 

The most likely candidate for a longer fic is one set in a Modern Dystopian Westeros where military service in compulsory for unmarried, young men and draft dodgers are put to death.  Jon and Sansa are cousins who reconnect after being separated as kids and a romance begins before he’s sent off to war.

6. Something I’d never include in a fic-

Jon and Sansa will never cheat on each other in my fics if they’re romantically involved already.  Significant others before they get together might be there but, once they get involved, there will be no one on the side…ever.

7. Phrase I repeat-

I’m not sure.  Jon often calls Sansa ‘sweet girl’ but that’s in other authors’ works, too.  

Whoa…that was LONG!

Thanks for asking, Nonny!

#long post #asks #jonsa #jonsa fanfic

[nyangibun]

I'd love for you to answer the below questions and tag some other authors! (All questions are related to Jonsa fics) Which of your fics are you proud of most? Which of your fics do you think could be expanded on if you had the time? What fics are you reading at the moment? Do you have fics that you go back to reread? How many fic ideas have you got 'on the back burner'? Can you share any? What will you NEVER include in a fic? Is there a phrase that you find yourself repeating in ur fics?

Oooh these are really great questions. Thank you, Anonny!

Which of your fics are you proud of most?

I think I’m most proud of my Little Wolf fic because it was a real challenge combining each chapter with the Jonsa Countdown prompts. And I just think it’s probably my best multi-chapter fic to date. 

I’m also really proud of my YouTube AU because it was my first social media AU and I loved writing it so much. And my post-break AU because it was so much fun to write it through everyone else’s eyes plus it broke my heart.

Which of your fics do you think could be expanded on if you had the time? 

Oh gosh, probably all of them, but I wish I had the time really expand my YouTube AU, turn it into a multi-chapter and really explore the beginning and middle of Jon and Sansa’s love story, how difficult it must’ve been for Sansa to see Jon with Ygritte, the whole Ramsay debacle and Jon’s reaction to it. The angst and mutual pining. All of it while in the background Sansa’s fans are all just freaking out. 

Or my dystopian space opera. I think there was a lot I could’ve done with this one. The world-building and writing out the war, forcing Jon and Sansa apart or exploring how they fell in love in only 2 days. 

What fics are you reading at the moment?

I just finished reading a Bellarke High School AU. I’m probably going to read either a Gabriel Reyes x Angela Ziegler (Overwatch) AU or a Sebastian x Mary (Reign) AU. I can’t help that I am trash shipper that ships everything lol. But since your question only pertains to Jonsa fics, I guess the next Jonsa fic I’m going to read is the Anastasia AU that @obiwan-katnobi is writing. 

Do you have fics that you go back to reread?

Hmm tbh the only fanfics I reread are ones in the Zutara fandom, mostly because it’s the oldest fandom I’m apart of and I love how after awhile I start to forget what I’ve read. But in the Jonsa fandom, the only one I reread is A Second Chance by makanelei. It’s so so good!! 

How many fic ideas have you got ‘on the back burner’? Can you share any?

So many!! 

The one I really want to write is my King Arthur AU. I’m only a chapter in but it’s been so much fun to write. I also have a Hunger Games AU that I want to properly write as well. And a Zombies AU. But I’m still trying to get over my writer’s block and finish the multi-chapter ones I do have so I don’t know when I’ll get time to write these lol

What will you NEVER include in a fic?

Rape, dubious consent or anything along those lines between the ship pairing. Or underage pairings, ie a young underage Sansa/Jon with a much older Sansa/Jon. There is absolutely no reason for anyone to write these sort of things and romanticise them. 

Is there a phrase that you find yourself repeating in ur fics?

I don’t know about a phrase tbh but I think my writing style is pretty easy to spot. There’s just a certain way that I write that I feel is distinct, whether in a good or bad way, who knows. I know I use an excessive amount of commas. If I feel at all that I’ve used a certain simile or metaphor one too many times, I’ll change it. I hate repetition. 

Thank you again for these questions!! They were so much fun to answer!

Tagging: @amymel86 @soapieturner @effleuresense @fedonciadale @wintermellons @frankxkaren @obiwan-katnobi @theonbaejoys @kitten1618x @everythingjonsa @kittykatknits 

(and of course @theadamantdaughter @steambend for Zutara things)

#about me #ask memes #fic questions #asks #anonymous

[amymel86]

The Facility - Part 1 - Jon x Sansa future/dystopian au

Just simply surviving the nuclear fallout wasn’t enough it seemed. The Government now had an agenda - an agenda that Sansa was just now realising might be more sinister than she ever imagined.

“Did you hear that bullshit Mordane was spewing about fulfilling our destinies and doing our duty”? Margaery whispered in Sansa’s ear while they were lining up in the cafeteria area for their carefully balanced rationed food and prescribed vitamins. Sansa only nodded and hugged her empty food tray to her body until it was time to gather her lunch. Her eyes darted towards all the guard posts as if they could hear Margaery’s blasphemous words.

Margaery (or Marg as she insisted on being called) was the only other girl at the facility that had attended the same school as Sansa. They had both been in their Sixth Form Art Class when the Government officials burst into the room, separated the male and female students and started the apparently compulsory 'testing’.

Sansa was a bright girl, she had a feeling that when they were all being told that their families knew what was being done to them and where they were going that the words were most likely not strictly true.

She remembered eying the stern looking guards at the door before she complied to her test and placed her legs in the stirrups. The 'doctor’ disappeared under her hospital gown with the torturous looking speculum. It wasn’t that bad - probably like a smear test, she mused - apart from the fact that it seemed like she was unable to refuse this test should she want to - what with the guards and all.

“Ding ding ding - we have a winner” Sansa remembers Dr Qyburn saying while still between her legs, the sting from his examination not yet subsiding. He gestured towards the guards and that’s when they took her away and delivered her to the facility - wherever that was.

“I don’t know what their game is yet but I’ll figure it out” Marg said with a smirk “whatever it is, it won’t be pleasant - of that I’m sure” she said, her expression darkening considerably.

“What makes you say that”? Sansa whispered almost inaudibly.

“Anytime someone prattles on and on trying to convince you to 'do your duty’ - you know your 'duty’ will be about as fun as peeing on a spark plug” Marg finished with a nod. Sansa couldn’t bring herself to disagree.

The daily doses of injected unknown drugs started two days later. She knew they were being groomed for something… but to what end?

The reality hit after a time, when each girl was issued a small pamphlet entitled “Increasing the Possibility by Dr Pycelle”. Sansa sat on her single cot with the hard mattress and the blue scratchy wool blanket in her cell and flicked through the booklet. A diagram caught her eye - it was a crude outline drawing of a woman with her legs in the air and propping her pelvis up with her hands like some sort of gymnastics pose. What on earth?

It was then that she actually forced herself to read the words… and that’s the first time she allowed herself to give into her fear and tears. She wanted her family… she had learnt to be strong but good God did she want her mother’s soft words and her father’s strong hugs.

’Assuming the position in the above diagram can aid fertilisation by making use of gravity. Best adopted directly after the seed is ejaculated and held for at least 3 minutes or as long as possible’.

So this was their 'duty’.

**********

Only being let out of their individual cells for meals, meds and lectures made for endless dull days. Sansa used to look forward to the lectures for something to do - but since their purpose there had been revealed, all lessons were centred around fertility, procreating and pregnancy. She was just about sick of it.

Guard Mordane explained that after the fallout, fertility was an all time dire low and that ’you girls’ are the ’lucky ones’ to still have functioning reproductive systems. Sansa didn’t feel particularly lucky.

*********

Sansa hadn’t seen one single man or boy for almost a month before Captain Stannis Baratheon came to take over their lecture. Something important was about to happen, she could feel it as she tried to ignore the murmurs and whisperings going on amongst the women around her and concentrated on the Captains’s uniform and many badges of honour displayed on his chest.

“Quiet” he bellowed and the silence rang true “now, as you have all gathered by now, you young ladies are here to perform your duty to your country and indeed the human race” he paused and Sansa heard Marg tut quietly where she sat next to her. “Tomorrow will mark the start of the second phase of the programme” Stannis continued to address the group of around 50-60 young women “you will each be introduced to your Breeding Partner for your first sessions” the cafeteria area where they held the lectures was silent, the tension thick in the air as if you could reach out and swirl your hand in it.

“Now” the Captain continued “some of you may not care about the desolate state of our population and birth rate and not be willing to co-operate - to those, I would like to say this… you young women and the young men (men? Where the hell are they)? being housed here at the facility are the first wave of the programme. None of you are under the age of 18…. should the number of you who are unwilling to participate be too great, then we shall have no choice but to lower that age limit to replace the uncooperative”. He paused and looked as though he was attempting to look each and every woman in the eye. “Think of your younger sisters, friends and cousins and reconsider your actions”.

Sansa thought of her sister Arya - she would have just turned 15. Her gut twisted uncomfortably - she missed her terribly and now she feared for her too.

*********

Sansa was an absolute bag of nerves the next day having not slept a wink the previous night… that and the fact that any moment now she was going to be forced to have sex with someone for the first time. This definitely wasn’t how she imagined losing her virginity.

All night she’d envisaged Captain Baratheon’s stern face huffing and puffing above her - him being the only man she’d seen in a month. The thought terrified her.

She was just realising that she’d forgotten a lot of things about men - masculine smells, broad shoulders and the lower timber of their voices when the door to her cell was rather unceremoniously yanked open.

“Female Patient 88, Breeding Partner Male Patient 34” came a man’s voice who was obviously reading from a list and then a man was pretty much picked up and thrown into her cell with her. He landed with a thud on the floor at her feet. Sansa didn’t take her eyes from him as she heard her door being bolted closed again.

******

 Sooooooo - enter Jon-you’re-gonna-have-to-make-a-baby-with-me-Snow

Also - in this au artificial insemination and other fertility practices are not an option - because of reasons. Lol! Just go with it!

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